


Vacation Bible School: The Revenge

by Whisper132



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-10
Updated: 2006-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The adventures of Shishido as he tries to survive his time with Ohtori at vacation Bible camp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vacation Bible School: The Revenge

  
The bunk beds were by far the worst part of Shishido’s Bible Camp experience. The plastic encased chunks of foam that passed for a mattress poked into his lower back, pinching at a nerve, and every time he moved, he nearly slid off the bed. He was certain he was going to slip off the bed in the night and crash down onto the concrete floor, cracking his head open and bleeding to death.

He’d bleed to death because no one would hear the smack of body hitting floor over Choutarou’s freight train snoring. Choutarou didn’t usually snore, but his allergies were acting up, blocking his nasal passages and causing the boy to make sounds in his sleep that, in the wild, might pass as an elephant mating call or rhinoceros war song.

“Hey, check this out.” The not so quiet whisper came from Masaki in the next bunk over. Masaki was a short, rat-nosed kid who’d latched himself onto Shishido since the first day of the camp. “C’mere.”

Shishido imagined Masaki waved but, in the utter dark, Shishido could barely find his pillow, let alone see some idiot kid waving at him. Shishido fished a small flashlight out from inside his pillowcase. “What the hell do you want? It’s late.” Shishido shined the flashlight in Masaki’s face.

“Just come over here. I’ve got something good.” Masaki waved frantically.

Shishido sighed and scrambled down the bunk, nearly stepping on one of Choutarou’s dangling limbs. If Choutarou didn’t go to this stupid camp every year, he and Shishido could be relaxing at the beach or going to amusement parks or playing billiards. Choutarou would want the beach, Shishido would want the billiards, and they’d compromise and go to the amusement park instead. Shishido would win Choutarou a big stuffed rabbit and Choutarou would win Shishido something equally as stupid but Shishido would keep the stupid plushie because Ohtori won it and it was important, just like all the unused knickknacks and uneaten chocolates Shishido had in his underwear drawer.

“What?” Shishido said, dumping himself over the bunk bed railing. There was no graceful way to enter a bunk bed. You either entered standing and hit your head, or crawled over and hit your ass on the railing while you tumbled.

Masaki shined a flashlight down on a magazine. “I stole this from my brother. Check it out.”

Shishido saw Masaki’s proud expression in the light reflecting off the glossy magazine pages. His cheeks puffed out as he smiled and his little bug eyes roved over the photos of naked women. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t bother me with stupid shit again.” Shishido moved to throw himself out of the bed – exiting a bunk bed was much the same, technique-wise, as entering – but was stopped by a light grip on his wrist.

Masaki gave a little rat grin. “What’s the matter? Don’t like girls?”

Shishido rolled his eyes. He used to use the same insult when he was in primary school. “I’m not looking at your low-class magazine,” Shishido said in his best Atobe impersonation. “Now fuck off and let me get some sleep.” He shook off Masaki’s hand and made his way back to bed in the dark, pausing to give Choutarou’s foot a little pat on his way up the bunk.

&-&

“Are you okay, Shishido-san?” Ohtori fussed with Shishido’s hair and worried at the bags under Shishido’s eyes. “Did you not sleep well?”

Shishido batted Ohtori away. “Masaki,” Shishido said, grabbing for his hat. His hair was a little longer now, just to that length where no style in the world could make Shishido look like a respectable member of society.

“What about him?” Ohtori ran a comb through his own hair and was done.

“He wanted to look at some porn mags with me.” Shishido shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal of it.

Choutarou snapped his comb. “Oh. I see.”

“I said no,” Shishido said, taking the broken comb from Ohtori and tossing it in the trash. A few of the boys in the cabin looked over at the sound of the comb snapping, but their attention was soon taken up by morning cleaning and verse memorization. It was Commandment Day and everyone was expected to be able to recite the Commandments at breakfast. Shishido had them written on his arm.

“That’s good.” Ohtori’s usually docile expression was now replaced with the sharp-eyed focus he got before letting loose a Scud Serve.

“Jesus is watching you, Ohtori-kun,” the cabin monitor said, frowning then using his fingers to contort his frown into a smile. It was something he did when he thought a cabin member wasn’t having fun.

Choutarou clutched at his cross and took a deep breath.

“It’s no big deal,” Shishido said, wondering why Choutarou was fine with Shishido and Oshitari smacking one another on the ass with towels in the locker room but Masaki’s offer, which Shishido refused, was against the rules. Choutarou made no sense.

“Of course not, Shishido-san.” Choutarou still had Scud Serve eyes, but his shoulders were relaxing.

Shishido clapped Ohtori on the back. “They serving those fake eggs again for breakfast?”

Ohtori laughed quietly into his hand. “They’re real eggs, Shishido-san. They’re seasoned.”

“Yeah, seasoned with the ash of burnt Bibles,” Shishido grumbled. “I’ll just have oatmeal again, I guess.” Shishido led Ohtori out of the cabin and toward the mess hall. Hopefully Masaki would be sitting at the Loser’s Table and wouldn’t bother them.

&-&

Breakfast passed without flavor or incident. Shishido finally passed the Commandments test after the third try. Each time he forgot about taking the Lord’s name in vain because the note on his arm rubbed off. On the final go, Choutarou had to whisper it to him while the camp councilors pretended not to notice.

After breakfast, the boys of cabin St. Michael trudged down to the main lodge for Bible study and prayerful reflection. “We’re in the Old Testament, Shishido-san. It’s in the front.” Ohtori turned his Bible around and showed Shishido the page. Choutarou bought a special Bible for Shishido and put tabs on the ends of the book, denoting where each section began. The tabs would have been handy if they weren’t in abbreviated English that Shishido didn’t understand.

“How the Hell am I supposed to find anything in this thing?” Shishido shook the book, the rattling of pages distracting Father Akiyama’s recounting of Psalm 90.

“Shishido-kun, remember your Commandments.” Father Akiyama pointed to the golden tablet hanging on the wall that detailed the Commandments in elegant calligraphy.

Shishido wanted to point out that Hell wasn’t the Lord’s name so he wasn’t breaking any Commandments, but mumbled out a sullen apology because arguing with a priest would upset Choutarou.

Father Akiyama accepted Shishido’s apology and gave him the honor of reading the Song of Solomon, all eight chapters. Shishido’s face reddened and he stuttered out words he should never have to say in front of Choutarou, in a Bible camp, while Father Akiyama smiled his plump little smile.

When the class was over, it was time for silent prayer. Choutarou bowed his head, held onto his cross, and concentrated on his conversation with God. Shishido closed his eyes, but kept them open just enough so he could see a small sliver of the room. Everyone had their heads bowed, some were moving their lips.

The silence stretched on for five minutes, ten minutes, and beyond. Shishido counted the metallic clicks of the second hand on the white clock above the door. He counted Choutarou’s inhalations.

Normally, when Shishido had nothing to occupy his time, he thought about Choutarou, usually naked or playing tennis. The first more so than the latter. You couldn’t think about sex while you were in the same room with a priest, though. There were rules of propriety to be followed. Also, it was awkward as all Hell. The second Shishido’s brain wandered to Ohtori’s lean legs, an image of Father Akiyama’s cherub smile ghosted over the scene. The old man knew what Shishido was thinking. He had to.

“Amen.”

Shishido opened his eyes at Father Akiyama’s words, but refused to look at the old man. He was sure the geezer would be smiling at him, mocking him. Instead, Shishido looked at Choutarou, who still had his eyes closed and his hands wrapped around his cross. A full minute after everyone was done and cleaning up the room, Choutarou closed his prayer, smiling to himself, eyes still closed.

“Come on, we’ve got three hours of free time.” Shishido tugged Ohtori up, wrenching his shoulder a bit because Ohtori, while trim, was compact and a little more weight than Shishido could handle.

Ohtori grabbed Shishido’s hand and, waving to Father Akiyama, dragged him out of the room. “There’s something I want to show you.”

&-&

Shishido was expecting Choutarou to show him a bird’s nest or some little nook where Choutarou hid away and prayed. Choutarou enjoyed sharing mushy, personal things with Shishido and Shishido, while he would never admit it, enjoyed learning about the mushy things.

Instead of a showing Shishido a bird’s nest or a prayer cubby, Choutarou dragged Shishido into the woods and, in the cover of a backup generator, shoved Shishido up against a tree and devoured his tongue.

“I prayed for half an hour so God would forgive us. Don’t waste it, Shishido-san,” Ohtori said when Shishido pulled away, legs wobbly and palms sweaty. Without waiting for Shishido’s answer, Ohtori grabbed his senpai by the waist and hoisted him into the air, bracing him against the tree with a hip and a hand to the ass.

“Someone could see us, Choutarou,” Shishido grunted out between the small nips Ohtori was taking at his throat. “You’ll get kicked out of your Jesus camp.”

Choutarou responded by sucking Shishido’s tongue out of his mouth and raking pearly white teeth across it. The first time Ohtori did it, Shishido thought it was gross, mainly because he’d just eaten a raspberry lollipop and the dye stained Ohtori’s teeth. After that, Shishido bought a tongue scraper and ate a lot of mints, just in case. Choutarou appreciated the taste and Shishido appreciated not making himself look like an oral slob.

Shishido took in a sharp breath through his nose as Ohtori’s mouth left his and moved to the back of his ear. “You didn’t really want to look at those magazines, did you, Ryou?”

When Choutarou said his first name in that deep, sliding way, Shishido always knew he was in for at least five hickies, all of them in very conspicuous places. “I already told you I didn’t want to look at the fucking magazines.” Shishido dug his head into the tree behind him. Why did everyone call Ohtori the nice one? Did they know he could bench press Kabaji without blinking or that, when angered, he had the same disposition as a rabid tiger?

“The girls were pretty,” Choutarou whispered, fingernails raking up Shishido’s sides. “They wouldn’t make you spend your summer at camp.” Choutarou’s voice was still wet velvet, but there was a hint of something more somber in it.

“Jesus Christ, Choutarou, I came because I wanted to, okay?” Choutarou was going to make Shishido be sentimental and a complete idiot. Shishido’d get him back for this. “As long as you’re here it’s worth coming.” He crossed his arms behind Choutarou’s neck and scooted around until Choutarou’s knee wasn’t sliding against his groin. Choutarou might have prayed for forgiveness, but angels of wrath would still fly down and smite Shishido if he and Ohtori moved beyond semi-chaste kissing while not so cleverly hidden in the forest.

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Shishido-san.” Ohtori slipped a dry kiss on Shishido’s neck and let his senpai slide back to the ground. “You’ve got dirt all over you now, Shishido-san. We should take a shower while everyone’s down by the lake.” Ohtori gave Shishido a hard smack to the rear and walked off toward their cabin.

Shishido was going to Hell for this, he was sure. But, on the up side, Ohtori was really good at getting out of trouble and maybe that half hour of prayer would just land Shishido in Purgatory. He could do Purgatory, no problem.


End file.
